Mischief
by XxXFallenAngelsXxX
Summary: Synyster Lokison was never normal, she was abandoned by her parents and left to rot at an orphanage for years in Chicago. She has had dreams of this man who looks to be her exact replica, he talks to her in her sleep. Then, one day the man from her dreams comes into reality; Synyster runs into the man whike one her way to school. Later she is adopted by the same man.
1. Prologue

Mischief

Prologue

I stood in a white, vast space—like in every dream I have—it was blank and I stood in the center of it. My long, loose curled, black hair was in a complete mess of a bun on the back of my head, my vibrant green eyes were locked in the distance, and it felt like I couldn't move a single inch.

In the distance, I could see the outline of a tall and skinny man approaching me; he had a long, black and green trench coat, leather pants, and a black vest-type-thing. Footsteps became louder and louder, and the man got closer and closer to me. He was very pale like me, his hair was black and slicked back, and even from the distance he was at I could clearly see his vibrant, green eyes—like mine.

He looked so familiar, but I had no idea who he even was; I simply called him "the man in my dreams". The man just looked so much like me it couldn't be a coincidence, I knew him from somewhere but I just couldn't put my finger on it.

The white space became dead silent when the man stood right in front of me; he looked down at me proudly, then he wrapped his thin, bony arms around me, and he whispered in my ear "I'm so proud of you, Synyster." But, unlike anything else, he had a thick Scandinavian accent, but it would be incomprehensible to anybody else yet I understood him perfectly.

I closed my eyes and savored the only moment of happiness I really had in my life, my muscles began to loosen and my shoulders dropped down from their painful position, the muscles in my arms relaxed to the point that I could move my elbow. Inside I just felt so safe and secure, so I slowly raised my arms from my sides and wrapped them around his torso. But, when my arms were about to touch him, the man's presence gradually disappeared, and I felt my own cold, pale skin.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Beep! Beep! Beep! _ A loud and obnoxious noises started blaring right next to my ear, my eyes still stayed closed hoping that wretched noise would stop, but the noise only seemed louder when I waited for it stop. _Beep! Beep! Beep! _I lay in my soft, warm bed for a minute or so, but the noise was still blaring. My eyes burst open with annoyance and hatred of the blinking, blue alarm clock that was directly next to my poor ears; I raised my hand high in the air and smacked the alarm clock until the horrid beeping stopped. It took a few tries, but I got it.

I rolled over on my right side facing the dark green wall, my face was pressed up against it and the wall was absolutely freezing. My eyes burst open again, but this time I knew I wasn't getting any sleep. Neither body nor mind was ready for another long, boring, nothing filled school day, and I literally rolled myself out of bed and onto the light brown, hard wood floor.

I landed with a loud thud, and the entire building seemed to have shaken. My thoughts were slow, but there was always one important question in my mind—who was the man in my dreams?

My weak arms pushed my body up off the cold floor; I peered behind me at the blue alarm clock on the white nightstand—6:45—it was _way _too early to do anything let alone go to school as a freshman! High school is hard enough when you are normal, but I'm the furthest thing from normal on this entire planet; the blob fish is more normal than I am!

Just behind the white nightstand was a single, small, square window, even though it was early in the morning, the city always seems to be lit no matter what time of the day. Street lamps illuminated the fresh snow covered sidewalks; it twinkled in the dim light, and it made everything look so peaceful.

The floorboards creaked under my feet as I strode across the room to the small closet on the other side of it; I opened the closet and randomly grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt, and slammed it shut—which sent an echo through the girl's home I live in.

Yes, I live in an orphanage. Miss Annie (who is insanely mean) and Miss Tawny (who is insanely nice) run Miss Annie's Home for Girl's in none other than Chicago, Illinois of course. Tawny tells me stories of how I was here basically since the day I was born, and they just couldn't I.D. my parents so I was left here; the only thing that I had from my parents was a note that was explaining my name and stuff and an open triad necklace made of pure silver. Nobody has adopted me since the day I came-which was about fourteen years ago-because I was very anti-social and depressed.

The air was cold and dry, so I shivered as I changed my clothes. Today's outfit included black skinny jeans that would cut off the average person's blood flow in seconds, a plain black fitted shirt, and a buttoned up to my mid-chest black cardigan. How could my luck be this good with my outfit that day? Up against the front wall was a black vanity, I peered into the mirror and my black hair was literally standing up strait in some parts.

I cringed at my reflection, and took out a heavy-duty hair brush from the top drawer and brushed down my tangled mess on top of my head. To put it straight forward, my hair is weird; some days like that one it would be slick straight, and other days it would look like Hermione Granger's hair from Harry Potter. Once my hair was tamed I took a comb at made it into what society would call "emo hair", no it's not all poufy and crazy, it's just spiked at some ends. I put on some eyeliner and was ready to go.

Quickly, I slipped on some black vans, grabbed my green and black stripped backpack and ran out the white door. My feet pounded against the same floor that ran through the entire building, since my room was on the very top floor, I ran down about six flights of steps.

My feet pounded against the floor sending quiet tapping noises through the seemingly empty building, the lights were bright in the gold colored hallways giving it a warm and inviting feeling. Then, as I got closer and closer to the bottom of the building, the atmosphere seemed less happy and more depressing. The walls faded to a dull grey, and the wall lamps gradually went away.

Finally, I reached the bottom of the pale grey stairs. I stared down at my feet and was not paying any attention to where I was going, and then my shoulder collided with a pudgy object, but I just kept walking not wanting to see _the beast_.

"Hmmmm….," the beast growled at me, and then said under her fowl breath "Disrespectful brat. No wonder your parents didn't want you."

I was right next to the large coat rack in the corner next to the grey, wooden door reaching for my black, knee-length trench coat. Something in my brain snapped when that fowl bitch—Annie—insulted my parents and I snapped "That's a lie!" I grabbed my coat, and spun around to see Annie's face.

Her toad-like face was covered in heavy makeup and wrinkles was red as a tomato, her chubby hands were clenched in two, tight fists and were turning white. Annie raised a pink painted finger at me, and she said in a sickened tone "That is why nobody likes you, and why you will be here until the day you turn eighteen you ungrateful little bit…" Annie was cut off by a sweet and caring voice from behind her.

"Now Annie, let's not use that kind of language around the kids," behind Annie was a young lady who looked to be only in her early twenties dressed in brown and tan; she had dirty blonde hair and sparkling, green eyes that could make a person feel better instantly when they were being yelled at by Annie—Tawny.

One of the pink curlers fell out of Annie's red and grey hair and bounced on the floor. She bit her red lip, glared at me with beady, grey eyes, and walked to the left into her office; the door slammed behind her. Tawny looked at me and smiled kindly, she asked "What did you do this time?"

I shook my head, "I bumped into her, and she exploded," Tawny looked at me like I was lying.

She laughed quietly to herself, and guided me to the door with her hand on my back "Just don't piss her off anymore; all she wants to do is make an entire orphanage of girls able to function." I put my black trench coat on, and Tawny opened the pale door with two windows at the top; the sleigh bells jingled, and a white wonderland emerged right before my eyes. I stepped onto the fresh snow, and the sky was covered with thick, fluffy, white clouds that had snow pouring out of each of them.

I began to walk away from the orphanage when Tawny yelled out "I'll be there at 7:30 to see the show!" Then the door slammed shut.

School was usually boring, but the last day of school before winter break is not boring when you are the lead in the school musical—"Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street". I was so surprised that _I_ got to be Sweeney, because I was just expecting an extra, but not the lead role that is meant for a _guy_ to play. I could remember auditions like they were my dreams; I got up on stage and was so nervous, I sang "My Friends" from the musical, and all of the people in the audience were surprised that I had matched my voice perfectly to Johnny Depp's—even in the acting portion. Then the music teacher, Mrs. Tremble, had put up a cast list in the hall; I searched for my name in the extras/background characters and I didn't find my name there-I had assumed that I didn't make it-but I was curious to see who got the leading roles, and it big, bold letters were

Sweeney Todd Synyster Lokison

I had been utterly shocked; I didn't even think I was a good singer, not at all good enough for the star! But I went on with my life and practiced the songs and lyrics, and today is the premier of the musical is today.

Snow plows quickly tried to get the pure, white snow off the roads before traffic set in; I walked along the cleared sidewalk, and a thin layer of snow lay on the grey sidewalk. Wind whipped at my black hair and cooled my face. Warmth radiated from the Palskoni Bakery in front of me, the side walk was wet from the snow melting, and steam was forming on its glass wall in the front of the bakery.

The bakery was a part of a chain of small shops and markets, it was one story, always steamy and warm, and had the nicest workers. Mr. Palskoni was standing outside of his bakery in his usual white t-shirt and apron that seemed to always be covered in flour; his gray and black hair was slicked back-like the man from my dreams-and he had a deep tan from being Italian, his was warm and inviting despite all of the wrinkles.

I approached the bakery, and Mr. Palskoni smiled and opened his arms and said happily in his accent "Synyster," I wrapped my arms around him-and he was shorter than I was so it was strange-"my dear girl! I hear that you are going to sing at your school to-day, I must come and see you preform." Mr. Palskoni diverted his attention from me and yelled something that sounded like some cuss words in Italian into the bustling bakery.

"Syd," he gestured for his grandson Syd to come out, "come here." Popping his head out from the glass door was Syd; his dark brown eyes was sparkling, his long, brunette hair hung in his eyes. He had a tan like his grandfather, but it wasn't as dark. Syd's arms were ripped-from his six years of playing quarterback on the football team-and the steam made them shine, he wore a white V-neck under a heavy with a flour splattered apron.

Syd used to be-and still is—my one and best friend, he's my age but his family has a tradition where the oldest son is the only one who has the choice of collage, and since Syd is the middle child he was taken out of school to work. Of course I miss him, but I see him literally him every day.

"Hey," Syd said sweetly, he looked around nervously, "do you want anything to eat? It's on me."

Whenever a Palskoni offers you food you take it, because the bakery makes the best pastries in the world. "Yeah, I'll have a brownie," I said nicely and then smiled. Syd disappeared into the bakery, cars started to line up in front of the businesses and customers poured into the surrounding businesses. Girls in high skirts walked in and out of Smoothie Hut with their low fat, low carb, low everything mango smoothie in about the smallest cups I've ever seen. Guys tried to flirt with the girls while they sipped their orange concoctions, and occasionally a blonde girl with the most perfect face would glare at me. Austyn Word, queen of the school and she's only a freshman.

Syd soon returned with my brownie on a paper napkin, steam flourished off of the brownie and warmed my red cheeks. Austyn glared over at me once again, but this time her icy, blue eyes lit up at the sight of Syd, she ran across the snow in her hot pink uggs; to my surprise she was one of the very few girls who was wearing pants. "Sydy! OMG, I thought you moved. LOLS!" Austyn yelled running to Syd; she really said LOL as in L.O.L., it's really annoying.

Syd had the look of horror as Austyn sprinted towards him, her too many highlights, curled hair bounced with every step. Mr. Palskoni went inside. Then, I felt a strong force shove me to the ground, and a high pitched squeal was let out from Austyn.

I lay flat on my back on the cold concrete, my eyes were closed, and my back and butt hurt terribly. Syd was asking Austyn to let go of him, but she kept squealing louder and louder. "Do you need help?" this voice was so familiar, so kind, so loving, so Scandinavian.

I opened my eyes and lifted my head slightly, a pale and thin man knelt in front of me-he couldn't have been more than twenty-five-he had his hand out reached. He had vibrant green eyes, slicked back, black hair, but he was wearing a white dress shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and a black vest and tie that was buttoned up with black dress pants.

Austyn looked down at me and the man and was holding back laughter, I just ignored her and said politely "Yes, thank you." and took the man's hand. I was hoisted off the ground by the man; once I got to my feet I noticed that he had a silver, open triad necklace—just like mine.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

"I'm fine," I realized that I had been at the bakery for about ten minutes, "I've got to go, by Syd!" I picked up my backpack from the ground and sprinted down the street, and I knew in my mind that I had just "the man in my dreams" in real life.

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**COMMENT!**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I sprinted down the busy sidewalks; my mind was clustered with thoughts about the man. Never before in my life had I met anybody like his man, but we looked too much alike for our meeting to be a coincidence. His strikingly vibrant green eyes stuck in my head—his eyes were an exact copy of mine.

The cold and dry wind whipped at my face, my backpack was hanging on by a thread on one of my shoulders, and I was shoving people out of my way and onto the concrete. I raced around corners, and slowly approaching me was a massive, castle structure school. It was completely made out of black and grey bricks; a red banner was hung above the massive, open entrance that said "Good luck to all the performers in the musical! Go Lions!" It was a written in gold paint, while I was reading it, I could hear the cheerleaders saying "Go Lions!" in the peppiest tone imaginable; school has really gotten to me.

Students crowded the common area; they threw snow balls at each other and made snow angels, and over all they all acted like Neanderthals. A large fountain in the center of the common area was covered in snow, and the jocks were smashing the nerd's faces into the snow.

I slowed my running down as I got to the intersection in front of the school, the blinking sign had a red hand on indication I couldn't walk; cars zoomed back and forth and in every direction across the intersection. Being my severely impatient self, I crossed my arms and tapped my foot on the sidewalk; people walked past me and stared disapprovingly—it's not like they haven't ever seen an inpatient, teenage girl before!

The little, green man appeared on the sign, and suddenly all of the cars suddenly disappeared. I proceeded off of the snow covered curb and onto the black streets, inside me I could feel something was horribly wrong, but I kept walking in the walkway. A zooming sound grew in the distance, I looked over my right shoulder, and speeding directly towards me was a silver, brand new Kia. The driver looked shocked and frightened; his eyes were wide as dinner plates, and the world seemed to be going in slow motion.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, a silver flash rushed right through me and rushed away; I didn't fall, or die for that matter. I could see the black, leather interior of the car; there was MC Donald's bags, wrappers, and cups thrown everywhere. When the car zoomed away, staring at me was a massive crowd of students in front of the curb; their mouth's gapped, and some were grabbing on to each other from the suspense.

I stood in the center of the walkway, and I was as confused as the students that watched the event were.

I had seen the interior of the car that I passed through, and I was completely awake and alive and unharmed. Then, a high pitched male voice rung out from the crowd "She is one of Satan!" A small, skinny, nerdish, African-American boy pointed and said frightened. The crowd whispered to one another, and gave me suspicious looks.

My heart was racing in my chest, and I felt as if I were a freak, a creature, _a monster_. I looked around, and the red hand on the sign shone brightly. The crowd dispersed, and loud honking came from my right; I ran out of the crossway and onto the curb. I entered the grounds of school.

I looked down at my feet, and I began walking on the snow clad walkway leading to the school doors. "Hey, freak girl!" A student's snide, cruel voice called, and being my habit, I looked to my left to see the snob. It was none other than Bryce Wailey; everyone thought he was adorable, tall, sweet, and perfect—lies! He was ugly as a cow, fairly short, the biggest douche world has ever seen.

A small gang of guys just like him formed behind him; they snickered and made insulting jokes about me. Snow fell onto Jakob's black, buzz cut hair and it looked like dandruff, he yelled holding back laughter "Can this go through you, too!" Jakob made a rather large snowball, and then chucked it at me.

I shut my eyes, raised my arms to protect my head, and waited for the cold impact of the snowball. My muscles tensed up, but when the snowball didn't make impact on my skin I let my arms down from my face, then _smack!_ The cold, hard snowball hit my face like a torpedo; I guess my "powers" didn't want to work that time.

The snowball stuck to my face and I couldn't see a thing, but as quickly as it hit my face it melted off with my burning rage. My eyes had been cleared of snow, and Jakob and his gang of douches were hunched over laughing. "Oh… Oh… Oh my god," Jakob barley managed to get out in his fit of hysteria, "that…. That was so funny!" I clenched my fists, and then tried to calm myself by saying that I would legally get to kill him tonight, because he is one of my customers that I kill and make into a delicious meat pie. There were perks to being Sweeney Todd after all.

I smiled _sinisterly_ and walked down the snow covered path into the school.

The school was warm, bustling, it had a Hogwarts kind of feel to it, and it just had a homey feeling. The front hall was bustling with teachers with megaphones shouting out commands to the students, and the students were going every direction down the corridors. "Students with French, English, or German decent go to the northern side of the gym. Students with Greek, Irish, or Italian decent go next to the English booth."

I had absolutely no clue what was going on, why were they making us go with our descents, and how would I know where to go if I had absolutely no clue where I had come from? "Students with Scandinavian, Russian, or Romanian decent go to the south corner of the gym!" A flood of kids with—I think English decent-swarmed the hall trying to get to the north entrance of the gym, and since I had no desire to go with them I tried to push my way through the massive crowd at an attempt to go to the opposite side of the gym. If I had no idea what my decent was I could at least learn about the Norse gods and goddesses and Dracula—because he doesn't sparkle.

The hallway was crowded; people were pushed up against the grey, stone pillars, and some were even doing the armadillo on the ground. Through the mass chaos, I managed to push through the crowd and get of the smooth, concrete wall; I pressed up against it and let the massive swarms pass.

Eons passed and some of the last swarms heading towards the north side of the gym passed, and all that was left was the armadilloing kids on the floor and the kids who had used the grooves in the pillars to climb above the chaos. The kids from the walls jumped down trying not to hit the kids on the ground, once the armadilloing kids got up I quickly ran down the hall.

The hallways were virtually empty, and they were eerily silent. I slowed myself to a fast-walk, but then realized nobody was heading this way with me. There were no footsteps except my own, and I felt utterly alone.

I solemnly strode down the hall and my head hung low, my face had still ached from the snowball, and I was utterly confused about my passing through the car. How had I done that? I wasn't dead—or at least I hope I wasn't—I wasn't dreaming, I wasn't hallucinating, I had no explanation. Was I some sort of monster that parents tell their children about at night? No, I couldn't be.

My head was filled with thoughts and theories about what I was and how I had done it, and I came to one simple conclusion: I was completely insane. It was the only answer that was logical! But, if I was the insane one why did all the people around me see the car pass right through me?

The hallway became louder with the sound of adults saying things about certain countries, and my pace quickened. Finally at the end of the castle-like hallway was a pair of two, wooden doors, I could hear talking from inside, and I grabbed the ornate, golden handle on the wooden door and slowly pulled it towards me. I had no intention of making a loud squeak and interrupting a man speaking.

"Now, before we begin, I would like to tell you something's about myself," a man said in a thick, Scandinavian accent, and then as I was slipping into the warmly lit red and gold gym. The stone walls were painted gold, and huge, red, tribal lions were painted on each wall.

A man was up on a home-made stage; he had slicked back, black hair, vibrant green eyes, and was very pale and thin. He wore black dress pants, a white dress shirt that went down to his elbows and a black button-up vest with a tie. The heavy, wooden door slammed behind me, and the small crowd of students all turned around to look at me; all of their eyes were on me.

The man on the make-shift stage vibrant, green eyes locked onto mine, he smiled warmly, and then said "Why don't you come join us." His accent was hard to understand, but then something in my head made me realize: the man was back.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Along the right wall were rows of backpacks bulging with school items and text books, and they were in stacks and rows and falling over each other. With all of the student's eyes of me, I slowly slinked in to the massive gym; my backpack slid off of my shoulder and up against the wall, and I quietly took my lonely place at the back corner of the mob. Rows of metal chairs lined in front of the man, and I quickly sat in the back, left corner.

"Alright," the man said, "everyone take your seats." The small crowd of students sat down, some gossiped and some were talking obnoxiously, loud. "Hello," He continued, "My name is Loki Oddison; I was named after the Norse god of Mischief. I am from Scandinavia, and I lived there for twenty-five years and then I moved to America," He made direct eye contact towards me, and our vibrant, green eyes locked on each other; I quickly looked away. "Before anybody asks, I will not say something in Scandinavian for you."

Slowly, I began to space out and drift into my own realm. This was where I could be safe from bullies, from the constant harassment, and from my hell of a life; it was an entirely golden city, and somewhere in that city my parents were waiting for me to come home—where ever that is. But, even if my parents were alive they should have come and gotten me by now; or just at least one of them.

Loki kept on talking, but I was escaping to my own world. Lying next to me on my right on a cold, old, metal chair was a hard back copy of "Fallen Angels" , and the city on fire glistened in the slightly dimmed lighting. I picked up the copy of my favorite book and opened the cover; the black ink on its pages looked brand new, not a single aspect of this book was damaged, and not even a bookmark adorned the pages.

While Loki was talking on I casually tilted my head down while I was intently reading my favorite book, it seemed like hours before the lecture was done, and I was so engrossed in the book that I barely heard the old, metal school bell ring for lunch.

As the students were standing up, I quickly put the book back down on the metal chair, and I looked like I was drowning in sea of children. The students piled out the doors, and I quickly stood up and walked behind the giant mob that was crowded against the red wall. I waited calmly for the people to move out of the way, but minutes passed and I was growing impatient.

But, somehow magically, the—red—sea of students parted down the center to where I was able to get my green and striped bag, but as I was going to get my backpack it seemed like every pair of eyes was glued onto me. The group was silent; nobody coughed, or made the most remote version of a sound. As the silence was issued it diminished, the chatter of the kids around me was loud and obnoxious; it was mostly gossip, and I had heard a few smart remarks about myself.

I snatched my backpack up and quickly scrambled away from the growing crowd, and I quickly walked to the wooden, double doors. My had reached for the golden handle, and as my hand was about to touch the ornate, golden handle the door swung open, and standing in the door way was a massive man; his hair was golden and came down to his shoulders, he a slight remnant of a bread, and he had striking blue eyes—they were almost electric. This man appeared to be angry, but his face looked so kind to others.

Without a sound he stormed in, and stormed towards Loki. He wore a tight, dark blue t-shirt and dark wash jeans, and this guy was tall and muscular; not like puny football players, but like body builder huge. His electric blue eyes darted at me, and they gave me a _get away from me kid_ kind of look. Quickly, I scurried away from the gargantuan man and out into the quiet hall.

The hall was completely empty; perfect.

I silently walked out into the hall, it was dimly lit, and had a homey feeling; It was comforting. Quietly, I roamed the silent corridors, but suddenly as the silence was brought upon me it left. The double doors leading to the gym bust open, loud and rambunctious students piled out through the doors, the screamed and they shouted and they ran around in the halls.

Now I was a very angry Synyster, which is not a good version of me to be around.

Suddenly I was engulfed in students, people towered over me, and they ran past me, some would even hit me in the shoulder or ram me in the back; just another miserable day in the life of mine. These people around me were like skyscrapers and I was like a little, tiny, miniature shed; and I'm of average height, so I don't know what kind of miracle grow these kids are getting.

I tried to walk faster than the current of students, but I could not succeed in the process. The current was too fast for me, and soon again I was engulfed by students. So, for the first time in a long time, I just went with the flow.

I walked silently along the noisy halls; I just started at my black and white converse all down the hall.

Once we reached the cafeteria's doors the students started to pile towards the front of the mob to get through the doors, I slowed my pace so that I would be at the back of the mob; this tactic worked great in escaping giant mobs in high schools. People swarmed around me, and I hung in the back; girls gossiped around me, boys flexed for the gossiping girls, and people quietly chatted with their friends—they were lucky. I seriously didn't have a single friend at school, I only had Syd.

Sure, it makes me sad that I had no friends really, but you get used to it being the little girl who nobody wanted. Not even the people who brought me into this world wanted me, that's why I was dropped off at Ms. Annie's fourteen years ago; my parents simply didn't want me, and they didn't seem to care where I had gone to.

The halls cleared quickly, and students flooded into the cafeteria. I walked the nearly barren corridor, an occasional student would pass by me, probably because they forgot their book bag in the gym; you know, typical stuff.

I began to walk faster towards the double wooden doors; I could see through the tiny, glass window pane that this lunch period would be hectic—people were standing on tables, I could hear the noise level from out here in the hall, and people were up walking around everywhere. Fun.

As I approached the doors I had a bad feeling about entering, I had no idea why, but I just did; something didn't feel right to me.

One the mahogany door was a Sweeney Todd flyer, my and Julia Heathcot's faces were edited onto the faces of Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett: Julia was nice, she wasn't mean at all, she was always kind to me and the people around her, so that was good.

I pushed in the door and I slowly crept into the noisy cafeteria, people were shouting at the top of their lungs songs—that were being horribly sung—people roamed the area like spirits, and the noise level was like a Metallica concert. Times eight. I quickly walked by the noisy students, staring at my feet, I made my way across the castle painted cafeteria; my table—that nobody else sat at—was all the way in the very back corner, tucked away from society.

The red and gold floors zoomed under my feet, and I cautiously looked up I was standing directly in front of my table; I smiled to myself, now I would finally get some peace.

My table was round and tucked away in the very back corner of the north side of the cafeteria, and our cafeteria is freaking huge. It's like the school is trying to pack all the ass-holes into one large space and is expecting all of us to get along perfectly—that doesn't work out so well. We have food fights quite often, somebody usually is just joking around and throws a piece of food that misses and it hits somebody, and then somebody gets pissed off and they throw a piece of food back at them, thus the food fight is born.

Let me tell you, it's a very entertaining to watch idiots throw food at each other like maniacs, but in the past I have had a bowl of mash potatoes dumped on my head—which is not very entertaining to try and get it out of your hair.

I sat down in the back of the circular table with my back facing the painted wall, and I had a perfect view of everybody in the room; the jocks, the preps, the hipsters, everybody. They gossiped constantly, and every once in a while they would peer over their shoulders and snicker at me. Apparently being a "loner" isn't very cool. But, unlike everyone else, I didn't give two craps about popularity!

I waited incomplete silence for—who I called—"Kenneth" to come and dismiss me to get my food; like seriously, he looks like a Ken doll—golden blonde hair, blue eyes, tan—the whole shebang. Kenneth walked around the cafeteria (and as somebody quoted) "looking all gay and crap" a lot of the time I hated this school, but we come up with the funniest things sometimes.

While I waited, I unzipped my green and black backpack and pulled out my copy of "Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief" I had this book plenty of times, wishing the gods were real, but they could only be real in my imagination; that made me sad, it would be so cool if my parents were gods. I could shoot water from my fingertips!

"You can go," Kenneth tapped on my table and casually walked away.

I sat my book down on the grey counter of the table, and stood up. There was a long line in the rich kid food line, a moderate line for the moderately rich people, and a short line in the free or reduced line; my line was the free line. Ms. Annie's isn't the richest place on earth.

Quietly I strode to the free line, only a handful of embarrassed looking kids stood in the line; their hands were shoved in the pockets of their goodwill jeans, and they gently bounced on the ball of their heel. Some of their eyes darted at the people in the cafeteria, they sipped coffees that they had gotten from the rich kid line and stared in disapproval.

I walked into the kitchen-type area, the smell of freshly cooked meals lurked in the air; mash potatoes and gravy sat in a massive pot, turkey drenched in gravy sat in the oven just waiting to be eaten, and the horrid smell of cooked green beans lingered in the air. The green beans totally ruined the wondrous smell of a holiday dinner.

Overall it looked delicious, and I was just salivating over the smell; who knows what could happen when I ate some of the meal.

I stood calmly in the line along with the tense kids that were circled around me, my arms were folded over my chest, and my foot tapped the red, tiled floor casually; as you can see my school has a thing with the color red.

"Synyster," one of the lunch ladies called, "we have your lunch ready." One of the good things about being a free lunch kid is that you get the freshest, healthiest, most delicious food; I smiled to myself and walked around the tense kids. The older lunch lady, who seemed to be in her mid-sixties, smiled at me; her wrinkly face formed happy grin as she handed me my free lunch.

"Thank you," I said shyly, and walked away from her. I know I'm rude, but I'm terribly shy.

Quickly, I scrambled back to my comfort zone, I weaved through the tables, dodged the students as strode across the busy floor. As I was walking back to my comfort zone, I saw _him_ again; Loki Oddinson, or the man in my dreams in real life. He sat at the opposite end of my table casually eating his gravy marinated turkey.

_Oh god_ I thought _here we go again._


End file.
